


the redeye

by auxanges



Series: Polyswap Promptfest Pickings [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Airports, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Humanstuck, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auxanges/pseuds/auxanges
Summary: Now Feferi beams. It warms you better than last hour's coffee. "How noble of you, um...?""Dirk." You set off for your new gate. "And I'm really fuckin' not noble.""I'll be the judge of that," she says, whip-quick. You're feeling the goddamn kringle spirit.
Relationships: Cronus Ampora/Dirk Strider, Cronus Ampora/Feferi Peixes, Cronus Ampora/Feferi Peixes/Dirk Strider, Feferi Peixes/Dirk Strider
Series: Polyswap Promptfest Pickings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602049
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21
Collections: Polyswap Winter Promptfest - Dawn Edition





	the redeye

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [thescyfychannel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel) in the [Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dawn_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dawn_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> it's the Holidays™ and these three idiots are stuck in an airport after several delays and much airline-related bugfuckery. are they traveling together? did they meet when one (or more) was crying in line at the customer service desk? or perhaps someone bowled over someone else(s) en route to their last desperate attempt to catch a flight?
> 
> either way: they end up stuck together at the same gate, camping out while they wait for the same flight...and then they fall in love  
> or, you know, they were already there, and now they're just Dealing With Each Other at like 4AM

The most beautiful girl you've ever seen has cartoon sushi rolls on her shirt and a choice curse vocabulary. You know she's for real because she's invoking several relics and body parts through her teeth, her knuckles white where she's gripping a rescheduled ticket. 

After a generous minute of ogling, you drop your headphones to let them dangle around your neck. It's frankly out of character for you, but it's also the holidays, and that's when miracles happen or whatever. 

"At least they didn't give you a lump of coal."

She looks up sharply, and you can practically hear a staple gun fastening her smile back into place. "Oh! Oh, no, I'm good. It's good."

Your lip twitches in what you call a half-smile. "Good," you parrot.

"Good."

It's her turn to stare. "Shall I have a portrait done up?" you ask, with immediate regret. You talked to her first, after all. 

The girl doesn't seem to care--if anything, she relaxes a little more around the shoulders. "No, I just...it's one in the morning."

"And your flight ditched you?" You wave your passport. "Join the club."

She lets out a little _hee_ laugh, a single burst too short to dissect. "That, and you're wearing sunglasses in an airport."

"Prescription," you reply vaguely, reaching for her bag. She looks ready to play tug-of-war with you, but after a glance back at her other duffel, she thinks the better of it. "Which gate?"

"Thirteen." 

"Shit. Twinsies." You crane your neck to read her luggage tag. "Shall we, Fef--Feferi?" Even her name rolls off your tongue like sugar floss.

Now Feferi beams. It warms you better than last hour's coffee. "How noble of you, um...?"

"Dirk." You set off for your new gate. "And I'm really fuckin' not noble."

"I'll be the judge of that," she says, whip-quick. You're feeling the goddamn kringle spirit. 

* * *

The most beautiful guy you've ever seen is sprawled out across four seats and change with his shoes under the furthest one. One arm is slung over his face, and his legs are intricately woven through the armrests. They are really, really long. 

Feferi, in an endearing show of taste, has also noticed him (or at least his legs, anyway) and gestures to the seats across from him. "Shall we?" she mouths. You flash a thumbs-up. 

The silence that follows is of the pleasant, non-suffocating variety: you pull out your laptop and its thousand opened tabs, and Feferi retrieves something colourful from her bag. Her shoes are already off, too, and she tucks her feet under her. After what you hope is a polite pause (and not just an excuse to hype yourself up for human interaction), you lean over to tap one of them until she stretches her legs across your lap. 

It gives you the smile you were looking for. 

And then the intercom screeches to life. _Jingle Bell Rock_ garbles its way through the walls, and handsome sleeping dude becomes handsome disoriented dude in one kind of hilarious second. 

The first three things he says aren't really words--more like questioning whoops of sound like a bad dubstep impression--until he smacks his shins off one of the armrests. "Fuck me, Jesus shit, ow. Ow!" 

You look back at your screen and type some nonsense into the Notes app to look busy. Feferi attempts the same, but quickly dissolves into giggles. 

The poor fucker extricates himself from his chairs and stretches. "Glad I can amuse." His voice hangs nicely in the centre of your chest. 

"Gotta make the best of a bad situation," Feferi replies, shifting to better settle her legs over yours. You can't help to be smug. 

"Oh, perfect. I have a Masters in bad situations." He grins. His canines are a little pointy. You have legs in your lap. Your smugness turns to something warmer. "I'm Cronus."

"I'm Feferi," you say, followed by, "hold on." 

She's game to play, dropping her voice down and attempting her best fading Texan drawl. "Hey. I'm Dirk. I wear sunglasses at night." 

"It's morning," you reply. She sticks out her tongue. 

Cronus has a turn at laughing. You're surrounded by pretty laughs and what has now transformed into a horrid rendition of _Santa Baby._ Airports are horrible. (Mostly.) 

"Wanna pull up some, uh. Does this count as leather?" Feferi pat-pats the chair next to her.

He ambles over, settling on her other side with his arm draped across the backrests. His fingers brush against your nape and you think you experience minor cardiac trauma. "So. Honeymooning?"

"We met at the customer service counter, actually. Which is a terribly named place, by the way." Feferi wrinkles her nose. 

"Oh. So you're not--" Cronus raises an eyebrow, and you watch the gears turn in his brain until he settles into your usual _eh, fuck it_ pattern of thought. It sinks him into the chair a little more. "Well. Christmas is lastin a while this year."

"Yup," you agree. "Just what I ordered, an extended layover and watery coffee."

"Overpriced bagels," Feferi chimes in.

"Out-of-service bathrooms," Cronus adds. 

"Crummy pretzels."

"Crying babies."

"Crying flight staff." At this one, you both look at Cronus, and he shrugs. "It's been a weird evenin." 

Feferi gives a _you think that's bad?_ look: you all proceed to exchange flight horror stories; Cronus fishes snacks from his carry-on; the hour slogs by, measured in tossed goldfish crackers and licorice bites. 

By the time he falls asleep again, he's draped over both your laps, and Feferi's head is on your shoulder, and you have exchanged phone numbers in addition to your stories. Your insomnia keeps you up and humming tunelessly to carols until boarding starts, but as you let yourself settle hands in two heads of unfairly soft hair, you decide the view in the terminal is just as good as the view from the plane. 


End file.
